The Many Faces of the Spock I Have Loved
by LusciousNesha
Summary: Reposted final installment of Spock and Uhura's love story. An aging Nyota tries to keep the memories of her love and her family while she battles a detrimental illness. Spock's house all lends a hand to ensure this task goes as smoothly as possible, and the couple gets to relive their best and worst moments as life catches up with their journey. See profile for order of stories.
1. Wake Up Call

**Wake Up Call**

"Good morning, Lady Nyota Uhura, of New Vulcan," a voice came through on a transmission, which caused the elderly human woman to stir in her bed. She had been awake for several moments, but was having some trouble focusing her mind. She arose, with difficulty, as the woman on the projection screen of the transmission continued to speak, "If I do not look familiar to you, please look at the nightstand next to your bed. There is a device called a mirror. I hope that you can remember what one is." The old woman picked up the mirror – _of course she could remember what a mirror is! What kind of a comment was that? _She looked at the mirror and startled a bit. The woman on the transmission was her, and yet, she could not remember making such a transmission.

The transmission Uhura said, "Don't be alarmed. I will explain. In the year of 2329, I turned ninety, and a well trusted doctor friend of mine discovered through a scan that I was suffering from memory loss, a rare mental disease which sometimes occurs in humans, though scarcely. I had been having trouble remembering little things, although I could remember bigger things. Yet, my doctor told me that eventually, I could forget even my own name." Nyota gasped when she heard this and began to look around the room, suddenly realizing that she had no idea where she was. She nearly panicked, but logically concluded that if there was a transmission of herself playing that these were probably her own quarters.

Uhura kept speaking to her, "By the time that I begin to watch this transmission, I don't know how badly affected that I will be by the disease. I have been seeing several human and Vulcan doctors, and all of them assure me that any assistance is only temporary. The disease is permanent. I did not want to forget who I am, or who I loved, so as soon as I realized that there was nothing I could do to stop this disease, I made this transmission for myself. I made it for you."

Now, Nyota climbed out of the bed and realized that her body was aching. She wondered exactly how old she was. Her reflection did not look much older than the version of herself on the transmission. She looked around. _Where could she relieve herself?_ This was extremely unsettling. If these were her quarters, then the memory loss which she suffered from was terrible because she did not know which way to go. Suddenly, her door opened and two women with pointed ears entered the room. They looked vaguely familiar, but she could not remember why. One of them looked like a boy, with her brown hair cut very short, and the other looked like a younger, lighter version of herself, with her hair in a large ball, tied at the back of her head.

"Do you require assistance, Mother?" The one with the hairball asked. Nyota decided that she would accept this as her daughter, since she did not know what else to do.

She nodded and confessed, "The lavatory has been hidden from me."

The light brown woman took her by the arm and guided her through a door which led to the bathroom, while the other woman said, "Computer, pause," to freeze the transmission.

"What is your name, Daughter?" Nyota asked the woman as she helped her to mount the toilet.

"Sanaa, Mother. You named me."

"Sanaa. That _is_ familiar," Nyota said.

"I do not expect you to remember me on a day to day basis, Mother. It is logical that with your disease, you can not remember events that are significant, even to you. If you are worried that I am upset about the fact that you can not remember me, let your mind and heart rest." Sanaa helped Nyota clean up and guided her back to the bedroom, where the other woman stood, waiting.

"Who is she?" Nyota whispered to Sanaa.

"Your daughter by marriage, Luxtria. Styik's wife," Sanaa responded.

Now, as it generally did when his name came up, a twinkle formed in Nyota's eyes, "Styik! Where is he? Where is my son?" She asked. Sanaa fought back a sigh. This was not her mother's fault, nor Styik's, but she became bothered each time that she had to explain who she was, but it was not the same when it came to Styik.

For whatever reason, Nyota was not forgetting her adopted son Styik existed, although she forgot about the two children that she actually gave life to, everyday - Sanaa and her older brother, Sytar. When Styik's name was mentioned, she could readily identify who he was, but she could not seem to remember much past the fact that he was her son. Sanaa answered the question, "He will visit you after you finish your transmission. Are you in need of sustenance?" Nyota nodded and Luxtria left the room, immediately. "Computer, play," Sanaa said.

As the transmission began again, she looked towards a minuscule recording device, that she knew her father was watching. He did little else with his time but watch her mother wither away as her mental capacities failed her, knowing that her body was doing the same, just at a slower rate. She felt tremendously sorry for her father. Tremendously sad. She seriously believed that he would be alone after her mother died. He could not realistically imagine himself with anyone else, and to be honest, she would never accept anyone else for him. She would tolerate it, but she would not accept it. She turned back to the screen and sat down next to her mother on the bed.

Uhura was talking, "The most important person in my life is and has been for most of my life, my husband and bond mate, _your husband and bond mate, _Spock. As of today, I have been married for sixty two years to a most wonderful husband."

"It is now sixty nine," Sanaa mentioned to Nyota, in real time. Nyota kept her eyes on the screen, but Sanaa knew that she had heard her. Her mother was calculating her age. Sanaa believed that she could still do so and knew that she would come to the conclusion that currently, she was ninety seven years old.

Transmission Uhura kept speaking, "By the time that I am watching this transmission, there should constantly be holos projector albums next to the mirror on the nightstand that chronicle our relationship – both of our wedding ceremonies, the births and childhoods of our children, the ceremonies for renewing our wedding vows, and other memories along the way that I never thought that I would lose, but still wanted to capture. Thank God that I did."

The woman on the screen looked so sad that Nyota felt herself about to cry. Before she could, Sanaa reached out and took her hand into her own. This helped, severely. "Our children are leading their own lives, now. Spock has ceased working to be at home with me, until..." her voice faltered and she let the sentence die. "This transmission is being given as a gift to the near future Spock. I made it to help you remember, so that he can have your love just as strongly as he always has, even if it is given only in the phases in which you can actually remember him." Tears began to fall from her cheeks, but she kept speaking, just as evenly as she had been, "So, Lady Nyota, please continue to watch and I will take you on a journey to remember the path that Spock and I have traveled together – ups and downs, so that you can remember how you love him, why you love him, and what you've loved each other through..."


	2. A Vulcan, First

**A Vulcan, First**

"I was enrolled in Starfleet Academy when I met Spock. At the time, I had been working on beginning a career in xenolinguistics and decided that with my skills and my potential, the only career fitting enough for me was within Starfleet. I was entering my second year at the academy and decided that I needed to take up a class in Vulcan language. I already knew how to speak the language, but I wanted to be certain that I could speak and understand it as fluently as the other languages that I may have access to aboard a Starfleet vessel. Spock was my professor for my first Vulcan class.

Finding out that news thrilled me, because I was finally going to have an actual teaching of the complexities of the Vulcan language by a Vulcan native. This course would help me to perfect the language and pronounce the sounds that I had been struggling with, and the fact that the instructor was actually Vulcan made it so much more enjoyable, as many of my xenolinguists instructors were not natives of the planet of the language I was learning. When I was learning a language, I would always seek out actual natives and befriend them so that I could get extra insight on the language. Most were flattered that I wanted to take the extra time to perfect the language and not just learn it in the way that it would be acceptable for the duty of a ship and for the Federation itself. I wanted my skills perfected, and I knew that Vulcans were not the friendliest of lifeforms. It may have been complicated to befriend a Vulcan for help with the language. What a relief it was that I really did not have to, because the teacher himself was Vulcan!

When I entered the classroom, I was the first one there, besides the instructor, who was seated at his own desk, reviewing a PADD. He did not look up at me when I entered, but I wasn't surprised or offended. People didn't have exposure to any Vulcans of passion. The Vulcans that most people ever met were Vulcans of logic. Let me just stay right there for a moment.

See, there was a planet of sophisticated intellectuals who lived obediently within the confines of logic. The planet and the people were both called Vulcan. The people of that planet were humanoid. They looked like we did, except they had these eyebrows that went..." Uhura pulled her eyebrows with her thumbs to demonstrate, "And they had pointed ears. Their physiological make up was different, as well, but what made them really stand out was the fact that they never did anything based upon emotion. Compared to humans, they are three times as stronger, much faster, endure longer lives, and are significantly more intelligent in matters of mathematics and sciences. They are an advanced species with strong roots in logic, and had a severe detachment from emotion. Spock was one of these."

Nyota stood up and began to walk towards the door. Sanaa asked, gently, "Where are you going, Mother?"

"A girl was supposed to bring me some food," Nyota said. "I'm hungry." Sanaa did not point out the fact that she did not know where to go once she stepped foot out of the room. Instead, she merely stood to help her walk out of the room.

"I will bring you into the dining area and let you sit at the table," Sanaa said.

As they walked down the lengthy hallway, Nyota admired several paintings along the way. "These are beautiful," she said. "Where did we get these?"

"I painted them while I was at Starfleet Academy," Sanaa answered. "Do you recognize any of them?" The woman asked her mother. Nyota looked at them, passing them by, absently. None of them really looked familiar, until she came to one.

"He is beautiful," she said, stroking her hand down a painting of Spock.

"Do you know who that is?" Sanaa asked, sounding more hopeful than she intended to.

"This is Spock," Nyota said, plainly. "Where is he?" She asked.

"He is here, waiting for you to remember him." There had been a particular event in which Nyota had seen Spock and could not remember him. It had caused her to panic and attempt to attack him. It had elevated her blood pressure to a dangerous level and she had fainted in his arms. Spock would not risk such an event occurring again. He did not allow her to see him unless he knew that she remembered him.

"Remember who?" Nyota asked. Sanaa froze and the elderly woman laughed lightly and said, "A little memory loss humor."

Sanaa took a deep breath and said, "I apologize mother. I have no sense of humor in _humorous_ situations." Nyota did not seem to understand the undertones of the statement, but did not press any further. Sanaa handed her a hand held transmission player and pressed play.

It continued from where Uhura on her screen had left off: "When I met Spock, like most other humans of that time, I believed that Vulcans did not have emotions, but it only took me about a semester in his class to realize that we had all been mistaken in that assumption.

Professor Spock didn't know that I found out the secret, that Vulcans truly _do _feel. He hadn't taken into consideration the fact that I was a highly capable and finely tuned translator. By the time that I enlisted in Starfleet, I was already familiar with eighty percent of the Federation of Planets' languages and fluent in perhaps sixty five percent of them. By reviewing my records, which Spock was big about doing at the beginning of each semester, he would have known those numbers, but he would not see in my records, or expect in my daily life for me to be so keen in translating even the slightest of movements in body language that I could master reading a Vulcan human hybrid within a matter of months.

However, I didn't know at the time that he _was_ a hybrid. It was in his Starfleet records, but wasn't common knowledge, for, at the time, Spock was rather secretive and actually insecure with his humane background and traits. I thought that I was decoding a full blood Vulcan, and after I learned to read him, I could not seem to stop. I became entranced with his slightest, practically invisible reactions and through them, before we ever had the chance to truly get to know each other, I retrieved a better idea of who he was.

After a while of learning under his tutelage, I somehow venture into this idea that he was becoming my friend, even though I still maintained a strict teacher/student rapport with him. However, not too long after my one way friendship did I find myself discovering that I was in fact, infatuated by him."

Sanaa helped Nyota to sit at a table and paused the transmission. Nyota said, "Aww, we were just getting to the good part. I hope that she tells me a steamy love story. I think that I like those."

Sanaa asked, "Would you like to have breakfast with others, today, Mother?"

"Can I listen to my story while I have breakfast if others are there?" Nyota asked.

"Yes, none of us will mind, I assure you," Sanaa said, glancing at the small monitoring device in the dining room. Soon, the rest of the family would join them. Nyota resumed the transmission, not thinking much more into the thought of others being present for breakfast.

Uhura continued her story, "I was able to mask my emotions underneath the genuine persona of an eager student looking up to her favorite instructor. I began to try to help him appeal more to some of the less enthusiastic students and he began to give me guidance on my advancement options in my field of work. We had such a nice professional set up, that it was pretty frightening to think of ever taking ourselves out of that position."

Nyota laughed and observed, "But obviously they did!" Luxtria came into the room and placed several platters on the table. Nyota barely noticed them as the woman began to prepare her a plate.

Uhura's story continued, "Spock used to have this period of time each semester where all of his focus went into programming a captain's simulation called the Kobayashi Maru." Uhura laughed a little and said, "And during that period of time, he would barely eat, barely sleep, become even more detached from everything else around him. So, after having seen him do it for over a week, I decided that I would step in and do something about it. I had been his student for about a year. I cared about him, and I used to be what they called a "mother hen". I was always trying to take care of somebody who seemed to need it. So I invited myself to his office one day with soup and tea. Nyota, it ended up being his favorite soup and tea of all time. Even today, he loves the soup that I created, just for him, and my Grandfather's family recipe tea. I made the soup up, not knowing what Vulcans ate, just knowing that they were vegetarians. I collected some Vulcan vegetables from the campus garden, threw in edible African flowers, which I loved to use in all my cooking, and African herbs that Mama grew in her garden, and Grandpa grew before her. I showed Spock how to make the soup, so, it won't leave with me, or with my memory..."

As a group of Vulcans entered the room, Nyota paused her transmission. It would have been impolite not to speak to them, and she did not wish to be rude, nor to miss this interesting story from the woman on her screen. "Good morning, she said to the two men entering the room. One of them had golden skin and very short, curly black hair. The other one had a long ponytail, which fell down his back and had many ties tied all the way down. His hair was mostly silver, with some streaks of black in it, although he did not look old enough to have a head full of grays, or silvers, in his case. Nyota stared at him for a while. He looked familiar, but she could not seem to place his face. The other one looked familiar too, and she realized that he looked like _her. _"Good morning," she offered, not daring to say much more, for worry of guessing wrong.

"Good morning, Lady Nyota," the one with the ponytail answered, taking a seat on the side of the empty seat next to her. The other man sat in the empty seat. Nyota glanced from the man next to her to the woman on the other side, who had identified herself as her daughter. These two could practically be twins. This man had to be her son! But, she didn't mention anything about it. She played the transmission as Luxtria sat next to the man with the ponytail.

"Anyway, Nyota... I went into his office with a little lunch for him and explained why I was bringing it, and we ended up having a conversation. It was different from our previous conversations, because personal information was revealed..." As she continued to speak, Nyota fell into her own thoughts. Some part of her mind remembered this information. It unfolded before her as though she were watching it on a movie screen, however the screen was slightly out of focus, and the audio was slightly muffled...

_She was allowed entry, told him why she was there and got out what she had brought him..._

The transmission Uhura's voice seemed to be background audio for the scene before the Lady Nyota, "Spock had not yet quite figured out my deep studying of him and his mannerisms. He would soon realize it, though.

_Spock lifted an eyebrow, extremely confounded as to how she would know such a thing. He answered gently, "Miss Uhura, as I am not human, I have the ability to go for extended periods of time without food and without rest. As a child, my parents allowed me to go out into the wilderness of Vulcan for ten days in order to prepare me for such moments in my life." After the words left his mouth, he winced a tiny fraction, in disbelief that he had so openly spoken of the tradition this way._

"When I heard him say that to me, the first thought that popped in my mind was that it was one of the craziest things that I had ever heard, and from such a civilized and rational people as the Vulcans, such a practice boggled my mind. Yet, this was something that I just knew that Professor Spock did not talk to people about regularly, if he spoke about it at all, so I tried to suppress my true reaction and continue the conversation. I was eager to learn more about Spock's life."

_Memories of that conversation were flooding in._

"He was trying to tell me not to worry about him, a sweet gesture on his part, but it was too late. I was worried about him, and I had already prepared his lunch. It was already there, and I was already serving it to him."

_Nyota smiled to herself, with her eyes closed, imagining how she had felt at the time._

"I think that he tried it just to be polite, because he could tell that I had gone through some trouble to get him fed. At the time, I generally helped him to adjust to the foolishness of other humans by serving as a bridge to the gap between himself and them. I think that he was grateful, and I think that a part of him was grateful for me caring enough to interfere in his life, too.

Years later, I discovered, from Spock that while I was in his office that day, in his mind, he was sitting there comparing me to a Vulcan/human hybrid. He thought that I used logic better than any other human he was familiar with, yet I had the passionate emotions that Earth women were known for, dwelling within me, fighting to reach the surface, and being suppressed. that was back when suppressing my emotions was something that I actually tried to do.

I sat there studying Professor Spock. I didn't know at the time that he was trying to suppress his delight with the soup that I had accidentally created. He loved it, and did not want me to see him be non Vulcan in his appreciation for it. I was watching him, trying to get something from him, the way that I had so many times before, but I couldn't pick up anything. It bothered me, but I played it cool."

_She smiled and said, "You seemed to be very deep in thought, Professor." _

_He tilted his head and replied, "I apologize. Perhaps temporarily forfeiting food and rest has taken somewhat of a toll on me." _

_She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well, at least now you have food. By the way, do you like the soup? You don't react to anything, so the only way that anyone can know what you're thinking is for you to speak it... or by reading your eyes." There was a flicker of something unpleasant in his eyes when she said that to him. _

"So after I had put my foot in my mouth, accidentally letting him know that I could read him, and had been reading him, I felt like an idiot. He was seated there, silent. He did not say anything to respond to me, and I just knew that I had just messed up any chance of us ever having another conversation where personal information was given. I just knew that our academic relationship would change for the worse due to my foolishness. I remembered how frank he had been with me the first day I met him, when I told him that I was excited to have a Vulcan teacher, and he pointed out that it was illogical for me to be excited about it, then I remembered other times that he lack of the show of emotions had made me sink into the though process that perhaps when I thought that I was reading him perhaps I was imagining seeing what _I _wanted to see, not what was there. I felt truly ridiculous."

"I decided to make a run for it, for I caused any further damage to my academic career, or to my rapport with Spock."

_When she reached the door, Spock managed to call out calmly, "Miss Uhura." She turned to look at him, with startled eyes. He commented, "The soup is perfect." She rewarded him with a beaming smile and continued out of the door._

"As soon as I stepped out of that door, I let out a huge breath that I didn't even know that I was holding. For a moment, I leaned against his door , to catch my breath and my heart rate, then I scurried on along. I can't even describe to you how grateful I was that he liked that guesswork soup!"

Nyota laughed at the words on the transmission. Sanaa reached over and pressed pause. Nyota threw her a displeased look, "I apologize. You complained about being hungry, yet you have not touched your breakfast. I was worried that the transmission may be distracting you from eating."

"That soup sounded good," Nyota said.

"There is some in front of you, Mother. You make the same comment each morning," the man next to her said.

Now she looked at him and confessed, "I _thought_ that you were mine. What is your name?"

"Sytar," he replied, sadly. With a nudge across the table to the man with the ponytail, he added, "And there is Styik."

Nyota looked at Styik and smiled, "I thought that I knew you."

"You _know_ me," Styik corrected.

Nyota pointed around the table, "Sanaa, Sytar, Styik..." she came to Luxtria and stared at the woman. She was a lovely woman. Not masculine, in any way, but for some reason, reminded Nyota of a boy. Nyota could not remember her name, though.

"Do not bother yourself with trying to remember her name," Styik suggested to Nyota.

Nyota glanced around the table and asked, "Well, where is your father? We're going to be late!" Sytar fought back the urge to wince in pain. No one asked her late for what, they already knew that she was speaking of attending the renewing of her parents' wedding vows. She did this frequently. They were uncertain why that particular day kept coming to her, but it was among a few other things that she got confused about. "Go get him!" She insisted.

"We have nowhere to go today, Mother," Styik said.

"Mama and Baba's..." Nyota stopped and looked at Sanaa, "Don't interrupt my story, again," she said, crankily, as she realized that she had just had some type of memory moment that made her look... (she did not know what she must have looked like), but she preferred to simply listen to her story rather than to feel that way again.

Uhura's voice settled upon Nyota's ears again, "If I knew then what I know now, I would not have let nearly two more years pass by before I branched out to having a romantic relationship with him. Then again, Spock is a Vulcan, first and whatever else is on the list second, and third and fourth..."

"I resent that falsified information," Nyota heard a male voice say from somewhere in the background of the transmission. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she heard it. His voice was beautiful, smooth and rich. This was Spock. The voice was not familiar, but just because her memory was failing, that did not mean that her intelligence had, not completely, anyway. _Who else would make the comment that had been made?_

"Come here, Sweetie. She probably wants to see you now," Uhura said, reaching both of her arms out. When the Vulcan man from the painting that Nyota saw earlier appeared behind Uhura on the screen, Nyota smiled. She had been correct in looking at the paintings. Spock was Spock.

"Hello, Nyota," He said to the screen.

She smiled and replied, "Hello, Spock." She brushed her fingers across the screen and thought about Spock. She focused as hard as she could. _There must have been something within her mind after what was it? Almost seventy years of marriage?_ The thought that nearly seventy years of her life could be wiped away frightened her, especially since she once found it so important not to forget that she had made a transmission for herself. Nyota fought the urge to cry, but the urge won. She paused the transmission, placed the player down and began to eat her breakfast as she sniffled to herself.

Her mind played images for her, but they were basically in flashes. Spock in front of a classroom. Spock seated in an office, at a desk. Spock beating someone up? She started from that image and the rest of the table looked at her. She ignored their glances, and continued to eat. Perhaps if she listened to the transmission more, she could remember more about Spock. That had been the point, after all. She wished that she could remember details. So far, he seemed mean and the images of him in her head did appear unfeeling. She wanted to know why she would marry such a man if she was as passionate as she felt, as passionate as she heard her own voice admit, when she had still been capable of knowing it for a fact. Nyota finished her breakfast, picked up her player and said, "I'm going to walk around the grounds, if that's alright."

"You are not a prisoner, Mother," Sytar informed her. She nodded once. She had already forgotten his name. Her memory was still partially functional. She could remember so much, but only just. She looked in the corner of the room and saw what looked like a wolf. She did not startle, at all, although a wolf was supposed to be something fearsome. Some part of her knew that this was a friend.

In fact, he arose and went to follow her out of the door, and she did not mind him doing so, at all. Nyota played the transmission again. If she would begin to cry again, she didn't want them to see her do so. She would rather be alone and unnoticed, untended to, than to have others, her family see her like this.

The on screen Spock had his arms wrapped around Uhura as he said, "A Vulcan would not participate in such affections in view of others or on a recording. I am your husband, first, and a Vulcan second," he said.

"Well, when I fell in love with you you were a Vulcan, first. You didn't even want to entertain the thought of possibly being attached to anyone," Uhura said.

Spock replied, "That is certainly true. I did not believe that it was logical to become attached to you, because my parents had already arranged for me to marry a Vulcan woman, and because the only reason that I knew of to be attached to you was purely desire based. Desire was illogical."

"It is not anymore?" She asked, teasing, even in her old age. This caused Nyota to laugh to herself.

Spock replied, "I do not know, but whether it is or not, my desire is for you, Nyota." He nudged her face with his nose, and said, "Continue your transmission. I'll draw you a bath."

Uhura smiled at him as he left and said to the screen, "Nyota, I know that you are probably wondering why I would choose a Vulcan. I already described how they were and how they were perceived, and I have to admit, when you have not had the chance to truly get to know one, they sound like a terrible species. They were often called cold, detached, unemotional, uncaring, inconsiderate... so many things that deep down, they truly just are not.

Most of them, if you know like I know are _sweltering _with passion, with kindness, with the deepest sense of loyalty and protection that any friend could ever offer, and most importantly, they can love harder than anyone that you can ever hope to know. Emotions run deep within their race. They simply were sophisticated enough to attempt to try to control their emotions... Somewhere along the way, many of them did forfeit their emotions, and many of them forgot their emotions. Many of them suppressed their emotions in such a way that it hurts them and others, and for all of the reasons that I have just listed, Spock, is in fact, a Vulcan first, no matter what he tries to say. And you love that Vulcan with everything that you have in you. I hope that some part of you knows that."

The transmission faded, then a new transmission popped up and Uhura announced, "Hello, Lady Nyota Uhura of New Vulcan. My next topic of discussion, as it relates to Spock is quite a treat, if I should say so myself. Spock is here with me, and he is going to play the Vulcan lyre while I talk to you. Hopefully, you can remember the lyre, and if you can not, hopefully, upon hearing it, you may begin to." Nyota stared off into the distance, listening to the hauntingly beautiful music being played in the background of Uhura's transmission. She was immensely saddened to find that she could not ever remember having heard this glorious sound before..


End file.
